Summer In Hell
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: The mystery is solved. Now what? Logan chooses to go abroad for the summer; will the possibility of separation end his fledgling relationship with Veronica? Summer vacation...it's going to be hell.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Rob Thomas and lots of suits who make important TV decisions. 

Author's Notes: "Veronica Mars" is the new "Buffy." Spread the word. And thanks for reading!

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Summer In Hell

by Kristen Elizabeth

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_Time does funny things. It can move so fast that it seems like if you blink, you'll miss entire chunks of it. Knowing Lilly was like that. When you were with her, you didn't want to miss a moment. She captivated you with her smile, her laughter, her complete irreverence. Time flew when Lilly was around, as if she ordered it to, which knowing Lilly, she might just have._

_But time can also drag so slowly that you think you might lose your mind. The year after Lilly's death felt like five hundred. And it was all I could do to keep going like she would have demanded of me. Life went on, just like it had when she was alive, but unlike then, minutes became hours, hours became days and days…well…you get my point._

_It's only in the past month or so that time has begun to even out again. Finding out the secrets surrounding Lilly's death…it's brought closure of some kind, a peace that I never expected to feel again. There's still none of the passionate pace Lilly set, but things are getting better. I don't feel like there's weeks between when I get up in the morning and when I go to bed at night. Okay, early morning, but don't tell my dad. Life is settling into a new groove._

_And it scares me._

Fingers snapped in front of her face jerked Veronica out of her thoughts. She blinked and focused. "Logan?"

The one-time bane of her existence gave her his patented smirk. It used to turn her stomach. It still did…only in an entirely different way now. "Welcome back. You were gone for a minute."

"I was thinking," she replied, closing her locker door with a metallic clang. "Was I not paying enough attention to you? The pet store said I only needed to feed you every couple of hours."

"Never let it be said that an Echolls is low-maintenance." Logan pointed to her forehead. "What's going on in there?"

_How do you tell the guy you're quasi-dating…if dating is the same thing as having occasional clandestine make-out sessions…that you can't stop thinking about his dead girlfriend?_

"Summer job," Veronica lied. "I'm applying for an intern position at the newspaper. I'm up against some steep competition."

"Can I do anything?"

_The fact that he offered is sweet, right? It's not like he could use his father's affluence to secure me a spot…could he?_

"Thanks, but I've got it covered." Veronica quickly changed the subject. "What are your plans for the summer?"

He looked around at the other students of Neptune High. The last day of school was always a bedlam of activity. Papers littered the hallways; the scent of cleansers was pungent in the air as lockers were emptied and scoured. They were a stationary island in the chaos.

"I'm thinking about spending some time in Cannes," Logan said, almost wistfully. "My mother loved it there."

"The French Riviera. Nice." She forced a smile. "Bon voyage, mon ami."

"You could come."

_We haven't even gone on an official date yet, and he's asking me to spend the summer with him in a place that has nude beaches? Is he serious?_

"Are you serious?"

Logan reached out to brush a lock of blond hair away from her face. "We could both stand to get out of this town for awhile."

"I agree. But I was thinking more along the lines of Tijuana. Not Europe."

"What do you say?" His eyes were intense as he waited for a response.

"I say…I'm going to have to think about it." The disappointment evident on his face prompted her to continue, "I have responsibilities here, Logan. This internship, helping out my father…prepping for the trial."

"The trial's not for months."

Veronica bit her lip. "It's complicated, Logan. I can't just drop everything and fly off to France with you."

"Lilly would have."

_Of course she would have. She was Lilly. She was spontaneous and carefree. A true risk-taker._

"I'm not Lilly," she told him, coolly. "Don't try to turn me into her."

Logan frowned. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

_Yes._

"No." Veronica sighed and thought better. "I don't know."

"Well, I'm not." The hardness in his voice was painfully familiar; it was the same tone he'd used for months in order to hurt her just a little bit more, to beat her down without ever laying a hand on her. "I know you're not Lilly. You'll never be Lilly."

"Can you say that with a little bit more regret?" she snapped. "I think you missed bruising some of my ego."

Logan ran a hand through his short hair. "What is your problem today? I thought we had an understanding. That we're both moving on…and that we're doing it together."

_What's my problem? My problem is this, Logan. Moving on means forgetting. Moving on means betraying people we both loved…and still love. We buried Lilly a year and a half ago, but now that her real killer is behind bars, we're burying her again._

_We're forgetting her._

"My only problem today is that you seem to think everyone has the luxury of spending their summer vacation lounging on foreign beaches without a care in the world. Guess what, Logan? I don't have a trust fund to pay my way through college. I need to work to save up money." Veronica slung her bag, laden down with the contents of her locker, over her slender shoulder. "So my answer is no. Have fun in France."

_It was a great exit. So why do I feel like I just stuck a sword in my own stomach?_

Veronica ran all the way to her car. Depositing her bag in the passenger's seat, she started up the engine and roared out of the parking lot. It wasn't until she was halfway home that she allowed herself to give up a single tear.

_Damnit. I'm going to miss him._

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To Be Continued 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thank you so much to those who read and reviewed, or just read;) I appreciate it very much.

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Summer In Hell

by Kristen Elizabeth

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"Mail call." Keith Mars entered the apartment with a cup of coffee in one hand and a short stack of letters in the other. "Mars, Veronica. Anybody by that name here?"

Veronica looked up from her cereal only long enough to give her father a look. "Must we do this every morning?"

"In forty years, when I'm gone, you'll be looking back at these moments with a tear in your eye."

"Oh, will I still be laughing at you, even then?"

He plopped two letters down beside her bowl. "One of these looks suspiciously like it might be from the newspaper."

_It was. I got it. In spite of my name, or maybe because of it, I beat out the other candidates and got the summer internship. Okay…why I am not bouncing off the walls?_

"I guess that article I submitted wasn't complete crap after all," Veronica said, setting the acceptance letter aside.

"I'm proud of you, kiddo." Her father bent down to kiss her forehead. "No one deserves it more."

She waited until her father had disappeared into his bedroom before she picked up the second envelope. No return address. Not even her own address. Just her name, neatly printed across the front. Exercising extreme caution, Veronica opened it.

_Wow. This is just…wow. I'm cordially invited to say goodbye to Logan before he departs for a summer abroad by attending a fabulous party at the Echolls estate thrown in his honor._

_This is the worst mail call ever._

Two hours later, Wallace Fennell sat on Veronica's bed, reading the invitation out loud. "Damn," he said, shaking his head. "Wish I was spending the summer in France."

_Well, Wallace, apparently all you'd have to do is occasionally lock lips with Logan to get an invite._

"Are you going? To the party?"

_Oh, too many memories. 09er parties and Veronica Mars do not mix. Now, do I want to go? That's another story entirely._

"I don't think so," she replied. "Not my scene."

"C'mon. A crazy party at a genuine mansion…your last chance to say farewell to a guy you're crushing on? How can that not be your scene?"

"I am not crushing on Logan."

_Did my nose just grow a bit, or am I imagining things?_

Wallace wasn't buying it. "You know, my invite probably got lost in the mail. Can I be your date?" When she threw him a glare, he held up his hands in defense. "Since you're not currently crushing on anyone, it's no big deal, right?"

"I don't know," Veronica pulled at a loose thread on her comforter, stalling for time. "Dad might need me to…"

"To what?" he cut her off. "Think of an excuse, quick!"

She sighed, exasperated. "Why do you want me to go so badly?"

"Who said this was about you? Kara Stevens is probably gonna be there. And that girl is fine." He grinned. "Help a brother out? Get me into Echolls' party?"

_So that's how I ended up standing here at Logan's front door with Wallace at my side. Sure, it feels good to finally do a favor for my friend instead of the other way around, but after a week of avoiding Logan's calls, his house is the last place on earth I want to be._

"Are there always so many cameras hanging around out front his place?" Wallace asked. He was fidgeting ever so slightly with excitement.

"Every time I've been here," Veronica mused. "I don't think he even notices them anymore."

"For someone who's not crushing, you sure do know a lot about the guy."

The door opened before she could reply and they were ushered inside by an obviously intoxicated jock Veronica vaguely recognized. He gave them a once-over, swigged back the remains of his beer, belched, and headed off, presumably for another round.

_So…I'm getting the feeling that I was the only one to get a written invitation to this fête. Word of mouth travels fast. Logan going away for the summer is just an excuse to get plastered and puke in a famous actor's pool. Like the 09er's need an excuse._

"There's Kara," Wallace pointed out as they weaved their way through the crowd towards the patio. The girl in question was standing by the bar, pouring herself a drink. "What should I do, Veronica?"

"Hey, I'm just your ticket in. I'm hardly one to give relationship advice." Wallace's pleading look softened Veronica. "Well, being a girl myself, I can say with some authority that we generally like a guy who can make interesting conversation. Since that seems to be lacking in this room, you might start there."

"Got it. Talk to her." Wallace took a breath and smoothed back his hair. "Will you be okay?"

"Forget who you're talking to here?" Veronica forced herself to smile with some semblance of assurance. "Go. Make friends."

_I'll be in the corner drinking nothing but cans of soda that I've opened myself._

* * *

_So, you might not know it from just looking at anyone in Logan's family, but they actually have a fairly decent library. Okay, it was probably stocked by an interior designer, and if the dust on the books is any indication, it probably hasn't been used ever, but I did find a first edition copy of Stephen King's "_It_" which has kept me occupied for the past hour. Gotta love the King._

_Why am I hiding out in Logan's library, you ask? Can you think of a reason why I wouldn't? It's quiet, it's deserted, and it's unlikely he would look for me in this of all places._

"What are you doing in here?"

_Of course, I have been known to be wrong. Once or twice._

Veronica closed up her book and stood. Turning, she saw Logan entering the library. He didn't seem drunk, or even mildly buzzed. In fact, if anything, he looked too good. She found herself unable to speak for a moment.

"_It_," she finally said, holding up the book. "I'm trying to get over my clown fear."

He moved closer, until she could smell the woody scent of his cologne. "You know, they have mimes in France. Mimes are a lot like clowns."

"You can't still want me to go."

"Ronnie." Logan chuckled softly. "Why do you think I invited you here tonight?"

She lifted her shoulders. "You figured out my secret love of beer pumped from a keg?"

"You don't drink." He reached out and cupped her face in his warm palm.

"And neither are you tonight," Veronica noted. Her eyelids fluttered at his touch. "Designated driver at your own party?"

Logan pulled back. "I wanted to talk to you with a clear head." He smirked. "Not that I ever have a really clear head when I'm talking to you."

_Sure, he would choose right now to whip out the romantic one-liners. Stay strong, Veronica. You can not run off to Cannes with him. Even though your brand new bikini deserves to make its debut on the French Riviera, you will not toss aside your responsibilities just for a summer of sheer Parisian bliss with a guy who makes your knees melt with a single kiss._

He reached for her again, drawing her into the strong circle of his arms. Pressed against him, she could feel his heart beat next to hers. Logan's lips sought out hers.

_There go the knees. Traitors._

Returning his kiss, Veronica let herself sink back onto the plush loveseat. She clung to him, winding her arms around his neck as he loomed over her. Somehow, he maneuvered his knee between hers, but she wasn't aware of it until his leg bumped the apex of her thighs. She froze with her fingers tangled in his hair.

_For a year and a half, I haven't had a single memory of that night. Why now? Why, when I'm in an embrace I trust and want, do I have to start remembering? There was one guy…maybe two. He…or they…were drinking something other than beer. I could smell it on their breath. One of them tried to kiss me and I could taste it._

"Scotch," Veronica said, turning her head away from Logan's.

"What?" He frowned and combed her hair back from her forehead. "You want a drink now?"

"You said you weren't drinking tonight," she panted, half out of breath from the kissing, half from the sudden onslaught of memories.

Logan brushed his lips across her cheek. "I only had one, earlier."

"Scotch," she repeated. "You drink Scotch."

"When it's available, sure." He pushed himself up until he could see her better. "What's with the interrogation?"

_I have to get out of here. Right now._

Veronica swallowed and slid out from underneath him. Standing up again, she straightened her rumpled top. "I need to get home. That internship…I got it. And it starts tomorrow, so I should get a good night's sleep."

Planting his own feet back on the floor, Logan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You're saying no to France, aren't you?"

"I already said no," she whispered. "You just weren't listening to me." Silence hung between them for a moment. "I guess it's not a word you're used to."

He looked up at her, his eyes dark. "No. It's not."

Veronica reached for her bag with shaking hands. "Have a great time, Logan. Don't break too many pretty French hearts."

"That's it?" Logan stood, and she was suddenly too aware of how much height he had on her. "That's how we're going to end this?"

"This…whatever it was…it was doomed from the start. I'm Veronica Mars, remember? The pariah of Neptune High. Your sworn enemy." She smiled with much bitterness. "Enemies don't end up happily ever after together."

"Could you just, for once, cut the snarky bullshit?" he snapped. "Tell me why. Give me one good reason why you think this can't work."

_Where do I start? The fact that you used to have crazy monkey sex with my dead best friend? The fact that you made my life hell for months? The fact that there's a frightening possibility that you could have been one of my rapists?_

_The fact that when I'm with you, I can forget about all of it?_

"Duncan," she said in a soft voice.

Logan blinked. "You still love him. Don't you?"

_They say that honesty is the best policy. They've obviously never fallen for the absolute wrong guy. They've obviously never had to tell a lie._

Veronica nodded.

"See you in the fall, Ronnie," he said after a long moment had passed.

_I was being dismissed. And so I left._

When she reentered the living room, Veronica saw Wallace dancing with Kara. He was laughing, having a great time.

_Good for him. He deserves to be happy. His hookup means that I can cry the whole way home without anyone ever knowing._

_'Cause even marshmallows can get burned._

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To Be Continued 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. Sadly. 'Cause they rock. 

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the great feedback! And thanks for watching "Veronica Mars"!

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Summer In Hell 

by Kristen Elizabeth

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_You might find this hard to believe if you live in one of those states that is complete land-locked, but summers in California are not the "super-cool" affairs you've probably heard about. Here's the truth about summer in the real O.C.: it's hot. And boring._

_Yeah, that's right. Boring. Because although there's the sun and the beach and surf and more Victoria's Secret-type bodies per capita than any other state in the union, the fact of the matter is that anyone who's anyone in Neptune disappears during the summer. The richest of the rich trade the California heat for much more expensive heat in places like Maui or Phuket or the Côte d'Azur. When you live in domestic paradise all year round, you have to seek out something slightly more exotic for your vacation, right?_

_Logan left for France two days after the disastrous party. He didn't call me; I didn't call him. Mutual silent treatment…hey, we're nothing if not willing to hurt each other for pride's sake. I started my internship at the newspaper and got involved in a major case for my dad involving a dirty ring of bondsmen and bail jumpers. Thrilling stuff. But it kept my mind occupied for the first couple weeks of summer. I probably could have gone on ignoring all thoughts of Logan if not for my insipid editor at the paper._

_Have I mentioned how much I hate grown women who use Carrie Bradshaw as a fashion frame of reference?_

"Shelly?" Veronica knocked on the open door to her editor's office.

"Come on in, Veronica." Seated behind her desk with a neat spread of papers in front of her, the thirty-something woman looked up as her intern entered. "Wow. Cute hair."

_Great. You can bet that tomorrow she'll have her hair in pig-tailed braids, too. Can't she see that the only fashion statement I'm making is that I was too lazy to wash my hair this morning?_

"Thanks." She slipped into the extremely uncomfortable chair in front of Shelly's desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"I have an assignment for you," Shelly said. When she stood up, Veronica took in her outfit with a critical eye.

_Like the models who wear them, some clothes are better left on the runway._

"Since you're in his class at the high school, you've probably met Logan Echolls once or twice, right?"

_Good thing I left my frappuchino at my desk, or else that couture of hers would be covered in snarffed coffee right about now._

"Yeah," Veronica said, as straight-faced as possible. "Once or twice. Lilly Kane was my best friend, after all. And Logan was her boyfriend."

Shelly shook her head, laughing at her own stupidity. "Of course, right! Duh. Well, you might not know this." She picked up a newspaper from her desk and handed it to Veronica.

_When I applied for this internship, I didn't realize I'd be working under an editor who not only reads tabloids, but actually subscribes to one or two of them. She might call it journalistic research, but how much journalistic integrity can you find in paparazzi shots of Logan Echolls hanging out on a yacht off the Cap d'Antibes?_

_A very tanned and bare-chested Logan._

_A very tanned and bare-chested Logan side by side with an equally tanned and bare-chested (save for a discreet black bar across her nipples) model._

Veronica's eyes narrowed at the image on display on the tabloid's front page.

"He's spending his summer in Cannes," Shelly informed her. "That's in France."

"That's great. But what does it have to do with me?" she asked between clenched teeth.

"Human interest story," her editor replied. "The son of one of Neptune's most famous residents having a fairy-tale summer vacation…the people eat that sort of stuff up!"

_Sure we do. But then, Americans eat a lot of crap that's not good for us. I enter the frappuchino and apple-cinnamon croissant waiting for me back in the newsroom, as well as the fact that I can't stop staring at this picture, into evidence as proof of this._

"With all due respect, Shelly, I think the _Star_ pretty much has the scoop on this story," Veronica said, folding up the paper and setting it aside…as far away from herself as possible. "So unless the paper wants to send me to France…"

"They are." Shelly grinned. "Well, me, really. They want this story, as well as coverage of the Cannes Film Festival when it starts shortly. There's enough money in the expense budget for the trip to cover an assistant. Are you interested?"

_Weird. I haven't been speechless in a really long time._

* * *

"Please tell me that my seventeen year old daughter did not agree to go to France with her airhead editor." 

Veronica measured out exactly one-fourth of a cup of milk and poured it over the macaroni. She stirred, watching the mixture turn orange from the powdered cheese. On the other side of the kitchen, her father waited for an answer. She stalled for another minute before finally looking up from her dinner preparations.

"C'mon, Dad. What seventeen year old girl in her right mind wouldn't agree to go to France, airhead editor or not?"

Keith frowned. "This isn't funny. We've gotta discuss stuff like this, Veronica."

She ladled out two bowls of macaroni and set one in front of him. "Isn't that what we're doing right now?"

"This isn't a discussion. This is an argument after the fact." He pointed his fork at her. "Start explaining yourself."

"Well…" Veronica took a bite before continuing. "Even though they tried to convince me otherwise in fifth grade sex ed class, I'm of the firm belief that I was sprouted from a cabbage patch and that my original name was Sadie Sue and…"

"Veronica."

_Okay, that's his "no crap" tone._

"The whole thing kind of caught me off guard. I've been working there for what, two minutes, and I'm being invited to help cover the Cannes Film Festival? I couldn't say no; I could have killed my career right then and there."

Keith wasn't loving the explanation if his stony face was any indication. "You could have explained that you're still underage and although you appreciated the offer, you just couldn't take off for France and be relatively unsupervised for the rest of the summer."

"Dad." She swallowed. "You leave me unsupervised all the time. I mean, it's okay. I'm not going to write a book about it someday, but I'm a little curious. Why is this different?"

"Besides the fact that you'll be unsupervised in an entirely different country?" He paused. "Don't you think I see the tabloids in the supermarket, too?"

_I always thought he was checking out the celebrity cellulite pics. Now I know for sure. And it's kind of revolting._

"I know who's in Cannes right now," Keith continued.

"You're always wearing the PI Hat, aren't you?" she said, her voice wavering just a bit.

"It looks good on me."

Veronica pushed her still-full bowl away. "I'd be going to be Shelly's assistant, Dad. And maybe to check out a nude beach. But that's all. I promise."

He arched both eyebrows.

_Give me some credit, father dearest. Even if I had an ulterior motive for the trip, what good would it do me? Logan is living it up, half-naked and probably boozed out of his mind on Cristal, with a bevy of French whores…excuse me, ladies. He's obviously not thinking about or giving a damn about me. Why should I care about him? He was a crazy fling, probably brought about by hormones or the fact that we share way too many painful memories. Nothing more._

_Of course, if I happened to bump into him while helping Shelly with her research, I can't give you my word that I won't dump a cold bottle of that same expensive champagne down his shorts. But other than that, Daddy, you've got nothing to worry about._

"I promise," Veronica reiterated.

_It is such a good thing I didn't return that amazing bikini of mine. It looks like it'll be making a Mediterranean appearance, after all. Goodbye Neptune.Bonjour, Cannes._

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To Be Continued 


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